


It'll Be Fine

by bondboy68



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, I'll take scenes stolen from Dark Knight for 200, Implied Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bondboy68/pseuds/bondboy68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond's voice was horse from screaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'll Be Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr from one of those ask box prompt things: 
> 
> "Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about one character trying to calm another down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]"

"Q!" Bond's voice was horse from screaming. He thrashed around, trying to loosen the ropes that held him. There was blood dripping into his eye from a cut on his forehead. "Q!" The other man had to be here somewhere. They'd been together when he'd been taken. Blindsided, he'd been knocked out. Of course they would also grab Q. He was here somewhere, Bond could feel it. "Q!" 

"Bond?" The agent instantly stilled. That was Q’s voice, but not coming from where he expected it. There was a crackle of static behind it. Bond searched until his eyes focused on the small black radio in front of him. 

“Q.”

“Oh, Bond, thank god. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, where are you?” Of course he was alright he was a fucking double-oh agent. It was Q he was worried about. 

“I’m not sure.”

Bond tried again to thrash around a loosen his bindings. “What are your surroundings, describe them to me.” There were several moments of nothing. “Q!”

“I’m here, I’m here. I can’t see very well. It’s dark. I lost my glasses. I believe I’m in a warehouse.” Bond looked around. 

“I am too.” He yanked and pulled, looking around for something to maybe cut the ropes with. 

“Bond listen to me. Your watch, there is a tracking device in it. If you push the button three times it will send out a distress signal. Do it now.”

Bond wiggled his hands until he could reach the watch with his fingers. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Q!”

“Mine...mine was in my glasses.” 

Bond’s heart nearly stopped. “Isn’t there something else?”

“Well, they could still track the signature, so if my glasses are in the same building as me, they could find me still.”

“Will they know that?”

“I don’t know.” 

There was a long moment of silence that stretched on. Bond looked around and hobbled his chair toward one of the great barrels that surrounded him oil drums, it seemed. He began trying to find a sharp edge to break the ropes. “Q, I’m coming for you.”

“I know, Bond.” 

He leaned against the oil drum, heavy and full, trying to find the friction to cut apart the thick ropes. In the distance, he heard a helicopter. 

“Bond, I think I’m hooked up to something.” The agent looked around him. 

“Me, as well. Oil drums.”

“Ah...yes, that would appear to be the case.” 

“Are you alright? Q?”

“Yes, yes. If I could get free, I could disable them.”

“They’re set to blow?”

“I think I can see a timed detonator.” 

Bond looked around, jumping the chair for a better look. Sure enough he found one, illuminate lights counting down. “One minute.”

“What was that?”

“I found a detonator, it says one minute.” 

“Oh. Well, that’s not much time, is it?”

“Q, it’s going to be fine.” He could still hear the helicopter. “They’re going to find you.” He struggled with the ropes. “Q?”

“I’m here, Bond.” 

The helicopter was getting louder. 

“Can you hear anything, anybody coming? Helicopters?”

“...No, Bond. I can’t.”

Bond grit his teeth. “No, no, no! FUCK!”

“Bond?” 

He could see the lights, coming in from the windows. 

They’d been out, together. A rare moment of peace when they both managed a day off. Q had his mind set on spaghetti with homemade sauce, so they were going to the market for ingredients. A cool, crisp day, with a clear sky. They’d walked through the park, admiring the colors of the leaves. Q’s hand had slipped quietly into his. Bond had looked over and smiled at him.  
He could hear them now, an entire team, breaking into the warehouse. Bond screamed, his throat felt raw from it. “NO! Go back! Find Q!” 

“Bond.” Q’s voice sounded calm over the crackle of static. “James. It’s going to be fine.” 

“No.” Bond closed his eyes, he couldn’t do it again. Visions of his parents, of Vesper, of M flashed through his mind. He couldn’t loose again. “No!” There were hands on him, pulling him away, chair and all, dragging him from the building. He fought against them. “NO! Q!” 

“James. I love you.”


End file.
